Six years ago today, my Dad lost a brief but excruciating battle with cancer. He had been diagnosed just three months previously, and he had gone through rounds of crippling chemotherapy, as well as a ten-hour long operation. Although Dad had been so desperately ill during the last weeks of his life, I had held onto the hope that he would survive and grow old with my Mom.
And so, when my Mom called from the other side of the world with the news that Dad was gone, I went into immediate denial. What do you mean, gone?
This is the man who raised me, played with me and read to me as a kid, gave me financial advice as an adult, watched an entire Olympics with me when we both had the flu, attended father-daughter dances with me and helped sell my Girl Scout cookies, and so much more. Gone? It just didn’t seem possible. (more…)